“Why would a N*** want to be from Holland? I thought y’all were regular black?” “Oh Hell no! What is that I hear you speaking? Spanish? How is that possible?! You have hair like me!”

The statements above are some of the more extreme examples of questions and comments we receive from strangers on almost a daily basis whenever we spend time in the U.S. The fact that we are two black women who are not from the United States seems to be a shock to many Americans, in particular those of African descent. We are two cousins who spent much time in New York City. One of us, Liz was born and raised in Curaçao, an island in the Southern Caribbean. Nata, on the other hand, was brought up in the Netherlands to a mother from Curacao and a father from British Guyana.

Although we both live in Curaçao New York has become a second home to the both of us. We are WANNABE New Yorkers, and as such we travel around the city by subway, especially between Brooklyn and Manhattan. We often make use of our travel time to recount the day’s events. We are very Caribbean in the sense that we are very passionate in the way we express our thoughts, feelings and emotions, even if we are on the A train during rush hour heading back to Brooklyn. We always communicate in our native languages of Papiamentu (a language that sometimes mistaken for Spanish) and Dutch. This can result in some interesting scenarios. The speaking of a different language should not be the cause for attention since New York has a very large population of immigrants. There is probably every single nationality living in the city. You would think there’d be little shock. However, we have noticed that the combination of two black women speaking a foreign language (or two) does cause quite a stir. We oftentimes catch our fellow passengers, especially black Americans, making an attempt to decipher what the hell it is that we are speaking. Most give up, others introduce themselves, and some of the men even try to pick us up. By the time we switch onto the G train, the number of people we meet multiplies. These subway experiences have always made us wonder: What makes the fact that we are foreign fascinating? In a careful manner we wondered if the African Americans that we have crossed paths with believed that black people only lived in America…

These expressions of disbelief coming from African Americans are not new to us. A few years back when we were both studying in Amsterdam, we saw comedy routines performed by three African American comedians. Even though the comedians talked mostly about black American culture the audience, which consisted of mostly Dutch blacks, was able to relate to most of the topics. This seemed to amaze the comedians and one of them even confessed with shame that he had never known that there were Dutch black people, let alone how Dutch blacks and black Americans have shared and continue to share similar experiences. Similarly, while living in Brazil Liz has met and interviewed many African Americans who admitted they never knew that Brazil or South America in general, had such a prominent black population.

Growing up, we were always aware of the fact that black people lived in the U.S. and all across the world. Perhaps it is because we were both raised in multi-lingual and multi-cultural environments. Or maybe it is simply a combination of how we were brought up and our own personal interests. We both loved reading books by Richard Wright, James Baldwin, and Toni Morisson. The autobiography of Malcolm X is definitely a favorite book of ours. To us, the African Diaspora is none other than a network of people of African descent, from different nations all across the globe whose ancestors have endured many hardships due to colonization, enslavement, abuse and racism. The enslaved Africans who crossed the Black Atlantic towards the Americas have all suffered a similar fate. Slavery might have been abolished for approximately 150 years, give or take a few years depending on the colonizer, but many blacks still suffer because of this. In Anno 2011, it is very clear to us that no matter where you go, may it be Curaçao, the Netherlands or Brazil, black people from the African Diaspora all share a comparable history.

Throughout our experiences we have come to the conclusion that the Diaspora is not only important to us because of our experiences and the close contact we have with our African heritage, which is ever present when we speak Papiamentu, eat our local cuisine or dance to the rhythm of the Tambù (traditional Curaçaoan drums), but also because the two of us have always acknowledged who we are and where we come from. This does not mean that we live or have lived in a society that acknowledges the importance of the colonial history and its repercussions today.

Like any other place both Curaçao and the Netherlands have seen its share of racism. However, the words race and racism are non-existent in both societies. All the racism that blacks in the Dutch Kingdom have been dealing with since the abolition of slavery has not disappeared because people are afraid to talk about what is actually happening. Blacks in America acknowledge the pain and suffering they have been through and are not afraid to fight for their rights. To us, this is admirable and it is a change that we wish to see in our society as well. Also, it is one of the reasons we spend so much time in New York connecting with other people from the Diaspora. We admire how the demon (racism) is called by its name in the U.S. This has made us stand much taller and has helped us to deal with similar situations in our homelands. Many blacks are still victims of colonization and it is these experiences that make all of us linked to one another throughout the black Atlantic.

So, we cannot wait to ride the subway next summer where we will reflect upon the day’s events. Since the concrete jungle was named New Amsterdam before it became New York, we know that the city is a constant reminder of our Dutch heritage, which is fashionably present in the subway system (Flushing, Brooklyn, Harlem, Stuyvesant, Coney are a few examples of Dutch cities or names in the Netherlands that have been adapted to English). We will keep meeting new people, especially our fellows from the Diaspora. We can only wish for more integration for all of us. Our plea is for everyone to be more aware of one another and reach out to others who have a similar history and a similar present. There are a number of African Diaspora Mecca’s in the world, New York City being one of them. However, there is also Salvador de Bahia in Brazil, Santiago de Cuba, or Bandabou in Curaçao. These are all places one could reach out to and visit. Perhaps one day our train rides will become uneventful, because everyone will have reached a point where hearing two black women speak a foreign language, makes them as regular as any other black person they may or may not know. After all, we are all children of the African Diaspora…